


Tranquil Storms

by CmonCmon



Series: Raising Warriors [17]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clone Mom and Clone Dad, Developing Relationship, Edee Feels, F/M, Morning After, Soft Wars, Sort Of, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CmonCmon/pseuds/CmonCmon
Summary: Colt, Shaak and the storm outside her window.
Relationships: Colt (Star Wars)/Shaak Ti
Series: Raising Warriors [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835518
Comments: 34
Kudos: 266
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	Tranquil Storms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/gifts), [Primarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/gifts).



> The PG after to the M-Rated [Experimental Learning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26467960).
> 
> Per usual, none of this would be without Project0506's [Soft Wars](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775). Go read it!
> 
> As always, so grateful for the help of [PrimaryBufferPanel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/works) and Jac (with the secret AO3) for their work as betas!

Colt’s eyes snapped open when she uncurled from his side. 

Colt hadn’t meant to sleep. The exertion and the trusting weight of her at his side must have been enough to put him out. 

“I should go, sir.” The words were sleep muddled. He shouldn't be a useless lump in his CO's bed. That was _not_ their arrangement.

“Stay,” Shaak whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. All intention to do anything but that disintegrated, and Colt knew it was not the result of Jedi powers. “I will return in a moment.” 

Colt forced his eyes open. The least he could do was stay awake until she returned. He turned his head to look out the window of her room. Few spaces had them. They were security risks, and there wasn’t much to see. Not much other than storms at least, and Colt had seen plenty of those while dragging his men from one muddy battlefield to the next. Kamino’s storms might be dramatic, but there were no good associations with storms for him.

“Roll on to your stomach, please.” Shaak had returned while he watched lightning strike after strike. 

She pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder. Colt had flipped himself over before pausing to think. “Sir?”

“I was over-enthusiastic.” Shaak sat on the bed beside him. The flashes of the storm gave him enough light to make out her shape, half-obscured in something light and loose. She would get cold. Shaak got cold a lot, Colt had noticed. Taken to keeping tea in a themos for her and 'suggesting' to the maintenance crew they might want to kick up the heat in the briefing room. She ought to be under covers. Preferably with him, but in bed and under covers regardless.

Colt smelled the bacta before he felt the careful touch on his back, the cool slide of the gel on his skin. “I’m fine, sir.”

“I was careless.” She made a disapproving huff. Her fingers moved lightly along the length of his sides. He could only feel the ghost of her touch on the back of his ribs, the small of his back, from the chill of the bacta. He could drift back off to sleep from the comfort of her touch alone. “My nails are too sharp. Some of these scratches are bloody.” 

Her nails _were_ sharp, and Colt didn’t care if the scratches bled beyond the potential damage to her bedding. Colt would gladly consider every mark she’d left on him a memento.

“And this.” Shaak tapped a finger against the muscle between his shoulder and neck. She made some sound he had never heard her make before but knew it was disapproving. “Colt, I apologize.”

“Leave it, please sir.” His head was resting on the backs of his forearms, not angle enough to watch her reaction. If she’d rather the scratches disappear, he wouldn’t argue. “I want to keep that.”

“Colt.” She sighed, and he couldn’t help but push himself up far enough to check her expression. Shaak looked fond, but unsure. Colt’s eyes trailed down the column of her throat, to the open neck of the robe she wore. The mark he’d left on her collarbone was dark on her skin. 

“I owe you an apology too then.” He nodded at the bruise he’d sucked on the thin skin. “I could…” he rolled to his side to take the bacta from her. 

Shaak smiled, all pale fangs in a spike of lightning. “I had thought to keep it.”

 _Oh._ He tamped down his unhelpful rush of want. "Then why would I..?” 

“Because,” Shaak said as she encouraged him to lay back down with a light hand on his arm. “I never want to add to the reminders of hurt on your body.”

"That's not what you'd leave," Colt managed around the lump in his throat. She shouldn't care this much.

Her fingertips trailed across his back, shoulder to shoulder. Where a younger, much more foolish Clone Commander had tattooed the marks of his four battalions across his shoulders. A paw print for the Akks, a long-snouted skull for Orray, an downturned claw for Rancor, and a stylized wing of a Uvak.

Colt wanted to tell her that a few scratches from her were nothing like the other scars on his body, but Shaak leaned in and kissed each of the tattoos on his back in turn. He couldn’t speak. The emotion had cut off any words. 

Shaak didn’t seem to need any. She pressed a kiss to the bite mark she had left on him and set the jar down on the small table beside the bed. 

Colt rolled to his side and raised the covers in invitation, He was rewarded with Shaak’s back fit snugly against his front, legs tangled together. The nest of pillows, he now understood, was to situate her lekku comfortably. Colt didn’t exactly hate the pile of pillows either, even if Shaak’s bed was strangely squishy.

Clearly, it hadn’t kept him awake. 

He rested his lips against Shaak’s rear lek and watched the lightning light the rolling clouds.

Colt wondered if this was the most contented he’d ever been on Kamino, short of being a back in second cycle, piled in a heap with Gree, Fox, and Neyo, unaware of the realities ahead of him.

Shaak’s hand smoothed along his forearm. Maybe he was projecting again.

“Coruscant, huh?” Colt tightened his arm around her to hold her close. That would be different. Safer to think about the future he could count on.

“Indeed.” Shaak pressed back against this chest. “Council meetings where I cannot mute the holotable.”

He rumbled a little laugh. “Hmm… Endless protocol briefings.”

Colt would catch up with Fox, see if he could drag his squadmate out from under a pile of datapads at his desk with the Coruscant Guard. The other commanders who would be passing through had already claimed multiple nights of his downtime. Colt was looking forward to those things, but he had become comfortable with his role, comfortable with being in charge, with viewing his only ranking CO as a partner.

“You’ll have other Jedi to spend your time with.” That was good for her. Shaak missed having peers around.

“And you will have your brothers.”

He would, but that didn't mean he didn't want to see her…

“And we will see Ottoo.”

“We?” Colt echoed before he could catch himself. He had hoped she would get an update on his former cadet, but he hadn't thought anything more would be possible. “I might be allowed to see him?”

“I’m certain I will require your assistance at the Temple at some point.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “And if that happens to coincide with an opening in the younglings schedule, it might be the will of the Force.” 

"Will of the Force?" Colt hid his smile behind her montrals. “You’d know best, sir.”


End file.
